Kristen Chameleon
by Stormer
Summary: A Kristen Blake/Dimera fic: What might’ve happened if Kristen had found out about Jennifer’s “death” before Susan arrived at the Blake house? Maybe she wouldn’t have met her sudden demise. An attempt to show some of the old, loving Kr
1. Chapter One: Plans Discarded On A Whim

Note: This will be continued, not sure when. I just wanted to know what would've happened if Kristen had heard about Jennifer's death before supposedly being pushed into the pool at the Blake house. I took the flashback to the boot-scooting session from a _Days _episode (from the '98 season I think) I recently saw. Also, all constructive criticism is welcome – please give it! :)

**Kristen Chameleon**

**_Plans Discarded On A Whim_**__

Kristen Blake smiled drunkenly and raised her wine glass in another toast. She said in a slurred voice, "You're _brilliant_…" and flicked her hair back over her shoulder, sighing loudly. "Susan's on her way back to Salem right this moment…with your baby. You lost John…thanks to that _bitch_ Marlena…and you lost your brother and father…but you won't lose your baby. You'll have his love at least."

She smiled in triumph, though when she let herself dwell on matters too long she started to realise that it was rather a hollow triumph – not the trumpeting glory she'd expected. Was she losing her touch? Stefano seemed to think so. Everybody else in Salem abhorred her, but that'd never reflected on her skills as a master manipulator. What was worth more in the end, anyway: friends to giggle stupidly with, or brains to secure herself a happy future?

"Security, that's what," she drawled, stumbling into a nearby chair while managing to handle her full wine glass deftly. In the worst situations she still had her self-control. Right? She had been feeling distinctly _out _of control this evening, quite unlike her usual self. But that was just a sign of the times – a sign that things were as bad as they could be, and could only get better.

"Hurry up, Susan," she muttered, pursing her lips as she made her unsteady way over to the couch and draped herself over it. "Bring me my baby."

*          *          *

The telephone shrilled, jerking her out of her doze. She sat upright and automatically looked for her wine glass – it wasn't in her hand. After a dazed moment of contemplation, in which the phone continued to shriek at her, she realised that it was sitting on the coffee table in front of her – even in her drunk stupor she'd managed to get the wineglass to safety.

Groaning, she dragged herself to her feet and weaved over to the little nightstand where the phone sat. As she walked she muttered angrily about who could be calling at this time of night – she certainly had no friends who might be checking up on her. Then her fogged mind perceived that this wasn't her usual abode, and therefore whoever was calling was trying to reach someone else. She picked up the receiver and set it down again immediately – then she took it off the hook and began to make her sluggish way back to the lounge suit.

Halfway there she stopped, wavering on the spot, and decided she wanted some music on. It'd distract her from all this waiting, at least. She'd keep it at low volume, so that nobody passing by outside would pick up on the noise.

The only source of music nearby was the small portable radio with its own antenna that stood next to the phone on the nightstand. Kristen moved over to it and leaned heavily on the nightstand for a moment, waiting for the waves of dizziness to pass. She swallowed, wondering what kind of hangover she'd have tomorrow morning, and then turned the radio on.

Soothing strains of classical music washed over her, reminding her of what she didn't want to think about – Stefano. He was lost to her now. The thought no longer made her angry, only sad. He and Peter had been the only two people in the world she could call family. Now she had nobody.

_Don't dwell on it_, she told herself as she turned to face the opposite wall, closing her eyes momentarily. She didn't like how dizzy she felt, the room spinning her around even though she was no longer looking at it, so she hastily opened her eyes again and lurched ot the side, having lost her balance completely. When she had recovered she thought, _don't dwell on what's lost. Only dwell on what is to be gained. My precious John Junior. He'll be with me soon if that nitwit Susan does everything I said._

The classical music faded out and a well-known reporter's voice replaced it. Kristen listened with half an ear as she swayed gently to and fro, tilting her head slightly to the side.

"Good evening, listeners. Your usual programme has been interrupted for this newsflash."

Kristen resisted the urge to look at the clock, or ask herself again what was keeping Susan, or counting the number of things that could go wrong with her plan.

"Late last night the body of Jennifer Horton Devereux was found in a burnt-out car just north of the city."

Kristen had just begun to hum softly aloud when she stopped, jerking to sudden stillness. Her hearing immediately tuned in completely to what she was hearing on the radio.

"…The circumstances of Horton Devereux's death are unclear, but investigations are ongoing. Commander Abraham Calver of the Salem Police Department…"

Kristen choked on air, and very nearly stumbled. She hastened to the couch and leaned against it, preventing herself from toppling right over. Her head swam even more ferociously now, affected by far more than just alcohol.

"…Is survived by her mother and small daughter, as well as a wide community of devoted friends and secondary family members…"

"Oh my God," Kristen blurted in a voice made harsh by shock and horror. "It can't be."

"…At Saint Luke's tonight from 9:30 pm onwards, and will be resumed in the morning from 8 am onwards. The Horton family have asked that instead of flowers…"

Kristen was frozen on the spot, and somehow it felt completely wrong. Having Susan sent off to a harem didn't seem quite as important as it had a few moments ago. Kristen found herself suddenly looking around for her purse and keys, as if preparing to…leave.

She realised she felt the compelling need to find out if the radio had been lying to her.

Slowly, she moved her tangled hair out of her eyes and tried to equalise the rhythm of her breathing. "I have to get to the church," she said huskily, her face still betraying no emotion but that of shock. Inside she was a roiling mess. "Have to go…see my friend…"

*          *          *

In the backseat of the taxicab, Kristen was forced to reminisce about old times. It had been so long since she had allowed herself this luxury in regards to anyone besides John, the love of her life who was now lost to her forever, but now that she was allowing herself the opportunity, the pain she felt twisting inside her was excruciating. The problem was, she couldn't stop now that she had started…

Kristen laughed and realised that Jennifer and Billie were doing the same – all of them laughing, having fun together. All of them somehow managed to keep up with the dizzying boot scooting routine, clapping and stomping and twirling in time with the music. It was the laughter, though, that most enhanced the moment. The laughter, the friendship, the secrets shared…

There had been times in her life when she'd wondered what she'd been missing – at this moment she knew the answer. "I love you guys!" she yelled at one point, and the other two yelled the same in thing in return. She felt more elated than she remembered feeling in a long time.__

She wondered if they'd known then that she really did love them. _Was I really so different back then?_ she asked herself. _All I've ever done, I've done for love. I am a lover now, as I was back then. Why can't anybody see that?_

"Probably because all they see is you kidnapping people and manipulating others," she muttered under her breath, sinking lower into the seat.

"What was that, ma'am?" the taxi driver asked, glancing at her in the rear-view mirror.

She responded, "Just get me to the church," and took to staring out the window at the night beyond. It was a landscape full of life and activity, but in that moment it seemed terribly empty to Kristen.


	2. Chapter Two: Dead And Gone

**Kristen Chameleon**

**_Dead and Gone_**

Kristen paid her taxi fare in a daze and stumbled out onto the sidewalk, taking a moment to regain her balance before proceeding on towards the sunken gardens and the church. Her breath misted in the night air before her, and she wondered if when she cried her tears would freeze right there on her cheeks. _Could _she cry, or would she hide behind her usual defences? It wasn't as if a family member had died…not really.

She hugged herself tighter, cursing herself for having neglected to bring a coat. Only now did she realise she was still in the shimmering dress she'd donned for that special occasion. How ironic – a special occasion for her required a pending abduction of another person into a harem and the taking of a baby. _Even if he is my baby_, she thought with a brief flare of her usual determination. _I'll…I'll be back in time to meet Susan…I just have to…have to see…see if it's true. Say goodbye to Jenn, if it is. Say goodbye…pay my respects._

_You don't know the meaning of the word 'respect'_, a small voice told her from within. She ignored it and trudged on. Her high heels clicked on the paving stones beneath her as she entered the centre of the sunken gardens, nearing the steps to the church. Ice cracked beneath her stiletto heels, startling her. She was shivering violently by now, her body's way of defending her against the elements.

Again against her will, she thought back to an earlier time, a time when she had been almost…happy. Jennifer and she had met for a coffee at the Brady Pub one winter's night, and then had proceeded outside for a "midnight stroll", as they jokingly called it. That night they had confided some of their deepest thoughts in one another. Thinking back now, Kristen saw the two of them as essentially alike in character. They had been, too – both devoted to loved ones, determined to be good citizens, resolved to being _great _friends for one another. _Not almost happy_, she decided in retrospect as she strolled through the cold night alone. _You _were _happy. You were happy, and good, and all that conventional stuff… You weren't Stefano's incarnate back then._

Things had, of course, changed. It seemed like everybody had gathered around a steaming cup of tea one night to plot Kristen's demise. They had definitely succeeded. What rotten luck she'd had over the last few years…

"Good evening," someone said in the here and now, but by the time she'd looked up the speaker had passed by her. She was too late to acknowledge them and return the gesture. She felt confused as to why she might want to.

She began ascending the steps to the church entrance, already hearing the tragic tones of the organ music wafting out into the night. Did she only imagine the sound of anguished sobbing accompanying it? Probably. She was too far to hear that yet. It wouldn't be too long, she assumed.

_I'll be sobbing a lot in hell, _she thought then with dark amusement. That was what Sister Mary Moira had said – she'd end up burning in hell unless she repented. The nun had said there was still time for her soul's redemption. _Not likely, _Kristen thought, and pushed the door open. _It'd take a miracle to redeem me, and God's not exactly on my side._

Quietly she entered the antechamber, trying to compose herself as she walked over to the chapel doors – she still felt tipsy, and the icy outdoors had made her even more light-headed. Inhaling deeply and closing her eyes briefly, she pushed gently on the doors and slipped inside, joining the crowd of mourners who had gathered to bid farewell to Jennifer.

Seeing them, Kristen knew it was true – Jennifer _was _dead. The realisation brought her to an abrupt standstill, and she stood on the spot, staring down the aisle at the coffin.

_I was married here_, she thought sadly, _and now my old friend is dying. Is dead. No chances to beg for her forgiveness anymore. I used all my chances up._

Kristen's heart ached with a surprising vengeance as she moved quietly to one side, taking a seat in the back row of seats. She hoped nobody would notice her here – all she wanted was to stay a short while.

*          *          *

"…You would think she'd at least turn up here, to say goodbye," Billie said with a shake of her head, remembering times in the past when she, Jennifer and Kristen had gathered together for a girl's night.

Hope nodded. "Yes…you would think that…but then again, she's a Dimera. All she thinks about is herself."

Someone cleared their throat, and both Billie and Hope turned to face Lexie Carver, who had just joined them.

"What is it, Lex?" Hope asked.

"Looks like she decided to show up after all," Lexie responded, gesturing towards the back of the church.

Billie and Hope both looked to see a figure hunched in the last row of seats to the left of the aisle – the shadows back there were so thick that it was hard to make out who sat there. "That's Kristen?" Hope asked doubtfully.

Lexie nodded. "I'm as surprised as you are."

Billie found herself gazing back at the woman who had once been her close friend. _Should I go and sit with her…? Is she really worth any effort anymore?_

She had started walking without even realising it, and in spite of her surprise now she kept going. After a few moments she thought Kristen had seen her – the figure at the back of the chapel stiffened and made as if to rise.

*          *          *

Kristen had lost herself in another memory, and it was only the sight of someone approaching, clearly heading straight for her, that dragged her back into the present. For some reason she panicked, and made as if to rise, but then she realised there was no point running. Besides, it was Billie. Perhaps the woman still had an ounce of warmth in her heart for Kristen.

Billie moved out of the aisle and slid quietly into a seat beside Kristen. She didn't even look at her as she spoke. "I'm surprised to see you here. Everybody is."

"Jenn was my friend once upon a time," Kristen responded stiffly, not looking at Billie as studiously as Billie was not looking at her. "I have a right to be here."

"I never said you didn't," Billie said softly. "Although…I'd stay away from Laura Horton. She'd probably skin you alive if she saw you here."

Kristen felt irritated, but also somewhat offended. "That woman is a basket case at the best of times."

Billie chided, "You should have a little more respect, especially at a time like this. Sometimes I wonder what I ever saw in you. To think I once called you a friend…" Billie shook her head in mock disbelief.

Kristen said nothing. She couldn't be bothered defending herself anymore. She hadn't come here to argue, after all. She had set out from the Blake house with the express purpose of finding out the truth about Jennifer. Worry for her former friend had motivated her, not a desire to disturb the peace.

"I'm glad you came, though," Billie said after a moment, her voice more serious now. "It shows that there's…at least some degree of good in you yet."

"Thank you," Kristen said coldly, sarcastically, as she gazed ahead at the coffin and Jack standing beside it. The man was weeping openly. _John would've wept for me once upon a time, had I died_, she lamented. _Once upon a time I was deemed worthy of that kind of love. Once upon a time I had it all…_

Billie said nothing more, and Kristen waited for her to leave, but she didn't. That surprised Kristen. It also brought her a strange degree of comfort. The two former friends sat there, together and yet essentially apart, lost in a whirlpool of confusion and sadness. It was always devastating to realise that the past was forever lost to you.

_What will I do now? _Kristen thought as she listened to the obituary being spoken. _What will I do when I get back home? _Because she realised that no matter _what _she did, Jennifer would still be dead. Somehow, that changed everything.

Sitting there in the pew with a leaden heart and stinging eyes, Kristen was more worried about her future than she had ever been.


End file.
